


Dear Mommy

by thepensword



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Baby Dean, Gen, Semi-happyish ending, Tears, Tissue Warning, fluffy angst? Maybe?, it's sad okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepensword/pseuds/thepensword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dear Mommy, I was wondering if I could write to you, since you're so far away. </p><p>(For nearly a year after her death, Dean wrote letters to his mother in case she ever came back to him, until he realized that she was, truly and forever, gone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Mommy

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah...hehe. Sorry about this.
> 
> In honor of Dean's birthday, have some tears.
> 
> (Contains a few personal head canons of mine.)

**November 4 th, 1983**

Dear Mommy.

It’s Dean. Um…hi.

This is…uh…this is actually the third time I’ve tried to write this letter. The first two got all wet because my eyes were crying.

I miss you.

It’s been two days since you played hide and seek on the ceiling of Sammy’s bedroom. That was bad, Mommy. He was supposed to be sleeping.

I heard Daddy run up the stairs so I got out of bed and then the house was on fire like the pictures Christie’s dad showed us when he came in on career day.

He was there, that night. Outside, with all the other firefighters.

I wanna be a firefighter too. I don’t think I like fires very much.

Daddy gave me Sammy and told me to run so I did and then he picked us up and Sammy’s room exploded like in Dad’s movies, and now you’re missing.

Mommy, where are you?

I asked Christie’s dad and I think he was gonna tell me, but Daddy told him not to and so he didn’t. I asked Daddy but he wouldn’t stop crying long enough to answer. I’ve never seen him cry before and it’s really scary. He misses you too. Why won’t you come home?

Sammy’s crying again. I’ve been taking care of him like you told me, because Daddy keeps drinking the big-kid juice and falling asleep. I have to go. Please come home soon, Mommy.

Love, Dean

 

* * *

 

**November 20 th, 1983**

Dear Mommy,

I was wondering if you’d mind if I kept writing to you. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It just makes me feel better.

Did you get my last letter? I hope so. Even though you can decide for yourself if you want to or not, I’d really really love it if you did answer. Please?

I asked Daddy where you were again. He said ‘gone’. I’m not sure what that means. What does he mean you’re ‘gone’? I asked and he said it meant you were never coming back, but that’s a lie because you’re my mommy and you have to come back.

Aw, now I’m crying again. I’m trying not to cry as much so Daddy will be proud.

We went and saw a woman today. Her name is Missouri and her skin is black as night and she knew my name before I told it to her. When she looked at Daddy for the first time she made the same face that you make whenever Sammy cries, like you’re hurting along with him and want to make it all better.

Mommy, I really miss you. We all do. I’m scared that I’ll forget you.

Please come home.

Love, Dean

 

* * *

 

**December 3 rd, 1983**

Dear Mommy,

Today we met a man named Pastor Jim. He’s really nice and funny, but he’s kinda strict. He made us say grace at the table, and Daddy didn’t want to, but Pastor Jim gave him this look and he did it.

I like Pastor Jim, even though he made me go to school.

One of the kids in my class asked me where you were. His name is Michael and he’s mean. I said I didn’t know where you were and he said that was stupid. Mommy, he said that you must have left because you couldn’t stand my ugly face.

Is that why you left, Mommy? Was I not good enough for you? I’m sorry.

I don’t think that’s why, though, and I told Michael. He rolled his eyes and called me stupid again. He said maybe it wasn’t me who was too ugly. Maybe it was Sammy.

I’m sorry, Mommy, I was really bad. He was mean about Sammy so I punched him in the face.

I got in trouble, and I’m sorry because I know you said to always be good, but I’m not sorry I punched him. He deserved it.

Sammy doesn’t have you and Daddy doesn’t act like Daddy anymore so I have to be both of you for Sammy.

I really, really miss you, Mommy.

Love, Dean

 

* * *

 

**January 24 th, 1984**

Dear Mommy,

It’s my birthday today. Um…Daddy asked me what I wanted and I said I wanted you. He went all white and had to go sit down with his grown-up juice.

Why did he do that, Mommy? What isn’t he telling me? Does he know where you are?

Mommy, I love you, and I really hope you still love me. If you do, can you just come see me today? Just now that it’s my birthday? Whatever you’re hiding from me, I’m five years old now. I’m big enough.

I think Sammy’s starting to forget you, Mommy. He used to touch your face whenever he saw your picture, but he doesn’t anymore. Just sort of stares at it like he’s confused. I’m scared, Mommy. I don’t want Sammy to forget.

I don’t want to forget, either.

Love, Dean

 

* * *

 

**April 23 rd, 1984**

Dear Mommy,

Sammy took his first step today. Dad smiled for the first time in months. Then Sammy fell over, but it was okay because I caught him.

I wish you could’ve seen it. You’d be proud.

Daddy sat down with me a little while ago and we talked about angels. He said you’d gone to live with them, but I’m not sure I understand. Why did you go live with the angels, Mommy? Didn’t you always say that Sammy and I were your angels? Were we not good enough?

I told Sammy about you, today. I told him that you were beautiful and amazing and that you love us. He didn’t understand, but I did get him to say ‘mama’ again.

Do you remember the first time he did that? It was right before the night with the fire. You smiled so wide and I ran around the house laughing.

It took him a while to say anything else after that, but he did start talking pretty well. His second word was ‘Dean’. Dad made a really weird face when he heard that, like he was really proud but at the same time he wanted to cry. He looked up at the ceiling and whispered your name. Why’d he look at the ceiling? Is it because that’s the last place he saw you?

Anyway, I wish you were here, and I can’t wait for you to come home.

Love, Dean

 

* * *

 

**August 14 th, 1984**

Dear Mommy,

We went swimming in the lake today! It was fun. Daddy smiled a lot and held Sammy in the water. Then we put him down on our beach towel and had a big splash war. Daddy was winning until I lay down on my back and kicked water at him. He only won after that because he picked me up and threw me into the air. When he caught me again he put me on his shoulder and we went out deeper than I’m usually allowed to go.

It was fun, until I said I wish you were here with us. Then Daddy got all sad and said we had to go.

He’s drinking that beer stuff again. He does it a lot, especially when he’s sad. I bet he wouldn’t do it so much if you came back, and we could have more lake days and get all wet and sandy and fall into our beds at the end of the day with smiles on our faces.

Do you and the angels have lake days? I hope so. Do you still miss us? I sure miss you, and so does Daddy.

Maybe we can meet the angels too?

Love, Dean

 

* * *

 

**September 6 th, 1984**

Dear Mommy,

Um…this is my last letter. I…

Oh, god, Mommy, today I learned what death is.

Mommy, you’re dead, aren’t you. You’re dead! How can you be dead? Why would you do that to me?!

Please stop being dead, Mommy, I just want you back. Please, please come back! I love you and I miss you and I just want my life to go back to the way it was! I want to eat your pie and breath you scent and hear your voice and feel your arms around me. I want my room with the train-track bedspread and Sammy across the hall and you and Daddy in the bedroom by the staircase, just a few steps away. I want you to be alive, Mommy!

Mommy…Mommy, I miss you…why’d you have to die?

I…oh, Mommy, I can’t…what do I do?

Come back to me, Mommy. I’m lost. I thought you said you’d always be here.

You’re not here now and I don’t know what to do.

Love,

 

* * *

 

_Sam gently touched the ink smudge that was once his brother’s name, felt between his fingers the paper aged by time and dotted with long-ago tears._

_“Sam! Lunch!”_

_He swallowed and carefully re-folded the letters, tucking them into the back of Dad’s journal; not his hunting journal, but his personal one. The one that neither of them had fully read, partially out of respect for their father’s privacy and partially (mostly) because it hurt too much to read his thoughts, now that he was gone._

_Sam had been unpacking his things into his room in their new home, the Men of Letters’ bunker. He’d found the journal tucked away with his things, gone to hide it away once again, when the papers had fallen out._

_He would have left them, but two words caught his eye and he’d paused._

_Dear Mommy._

 


End file.
